Amantes Sunt Amentes
by Rynn Abhorsen
Summary: Takes place after "Committed". The Day Shift knew not of how close they came to losing Sara. Nick's mind was soley focused on the coffee pot when Grissom said the words that would forever change his life. [NS]


**A/N:** The title of this story is Latin for "lovers are lunatics." This takes place directly after "Committed" with my own little twist on it. I truly hope you enjoy it, seeing as I've never written a CSI story before. On another note, this well be N/S, because I have rabidly supported this pairing since Day 1. With that, please enjoy.

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Amantes Sunt Amentes 

He nearly didn't catch it.

But he did…

His blood ran cold,

And for a moment, Nick Stokes' world seemed shattered.

Grissom was leaning against the wall, rubbing his eyelids while a police officer drilled him on the events of their latest case. This wasn't so out of the ordinary, and the bleary-eyed Nick continued his trek to the break room, hoping to grab a cup of coffee before Catherine handed out assignments. Just walking seemed difficult, the finite abilities Nick retained in the morning glaringly obvious. Breathe in, breathe out, left foot, right foot, left…

"Where was this investigation conducted?" The officer's brow crinkled in concern.

_Right, left…_

"At a Mental Hospital for convicted criminals."

_Breathe in, breathe out…_

"And while there, a violent altercation took place?"

_Right, left, right, towards the coffee pot, his salvation._

"Yes."

_Breathe in…_

"Involving one CSI, a Miss Sara Sidle?"

And Nick went numb, mouth poised between a yawn and a sigh, one foot halfway extended and a hand about to open the door. Making a 180 degree turn back towards Grissom, Nick's suddenly adrenaline-fueled vision found his superior's look not at all comforting. The older man was massaging his temples, slightly hunched as if he harbored some pain in his chest. So many thoughts came rushing through Nick's head in the short moments of coherency, standing there waiting for Grissom's answer.

_Sara's smile, always tinged with something sad, some shadow or stain in her laughter._

_A coffin, a single white lily held in her beautiful hands._

_The two of them sitting near each other in a restaurant after shift, Sara's head just barely resting on his shoulder in weariness._

_Her beautiful brown eyes staring at the white linoleum floor, the sterility made mocking by crimson blood…_

Sara couldn't have been hurt. No, not her.

But Grissom's answer was as final as a gunshot.

"Yes, there was an altercation."

Nick was beside them in a heartbeat, his hands outstretched to touch something, anything, to prove this wasn't a nightmare.

Please, please, be a nightmare…

"Grissom!"

"Yes, Nick?"

"What happened, where is Sara, wha-"

The police officer placed a hand on Nick's chest, pushing him away. "Excuse me Sir, but I'm trying to get the details from Mr. Grissom for our police report."

Nick's anger broke through in a moment, a mingling of fear, anger, horror and hope reverberating in his words, "Screw the report! Grissom, what the hell happened?"

"I left Sara in the Nurse's station and an inmate came in and locked the door…"

"You left her alone! What in Christ's name compelled you to do something so stupid?"

A part of Nick's brain, the rational part, the part separated from his heart, was screaming at him to stop, to think of what he was saying to his supervisor, his boss. But he didn't care…

Grissom continued without emotion, without seeming to register Nick's verbal assault. "The inmate grabbed her and held her with a hand fashioned knife to her throat. She fought so hard to be free…"

And Nick was gone, running down the hallway in a mad rush, without reason or even awareness, thinking that he was going to escape somewhere and find Sara healed of everything, and perhaps…returning the feelings he felt for her, had always felt for her. The feelings that caused him to disbelieve that there was a difference in loving someone and needing someone, the feelings that made every day dealing with this job seem a bit more bearable, the feelings that made him think that just seeing her smile could redeem him…

Those feelings.

Those things he had never told her, and now might never be able to…

The words he wanted to say…

I love you.

He stopped running abruptly, the locker room in front of him, empty and rimmed in steel. But Sara's purse lay on one of the benches and that alone was enough to compel him to walk in. Perhaps a vestige of the woman he had loved could be there, a trace of her intoxicating scent. But that was hope, and somehow hope seemed stupid and false at the moment.

He walked in anyway.

And found her huddled in one of the shower stalls.

"Sara…"

The lump of humanity, the woman known as Sara Sidle, the woman he loved, raised her tear-stained face to look at him.

Her voice seemed poised between a bitter laugh and a sob, "Hey, Nick."

He was beside her in an instant, on his knees against the white tile with his arms around her, the dim light making her seem so pale, so fragile, like a butterfly under glass.

"Oh, Sara, I thought you were gone. Please, tell me what happened, open up to me…"

_Please open the door…_

That released some floodgate within the huddled woman in his arms and she let loose a torrent of tears, burying her head against his chest in an effort to hold on as sobs racked her body.

A different person, a person who didn't love her and comprehend her in the way Nick did would have told her it was all going to be okay, would have told her to stop crying. But Sara showed such little emotion that this might be the only time she would ever cope with all the fear, anger, and pain within her.

So Nick didn't tell her to stop crying. "I know it hurts, Sara, I know. Let it out, let it out…"

So she continued to cry, her thin arms wrapping around his waist as the tears flowed. It took time for her sobs to slowly ebb, her grip on him loosening. While this happened Nick stroked her hair, whispering something, anything, to comfort her. She seemed so ashamed.

It was a feeling he knew well.

"He nearly killed me, Nick. He had this knife and he was holding it against my neck and every time my heart beat I could feel the blade pulsing against my skin and I- I was so afraid…"

"Oh, Sara…"

"And Grissom was staring at me the whole time, trying to get this idiot to open the door and I was struck by the fact that, if I was going to die there…"

"Sara, don't say that."

"No, listen, Nick!"

And because he loved her, he did.

"I was thinking that, if Adam Trent was going to kill me in a freaking mental hospital, I didn't want Grissom's face to be the last one I ever saw. If I've got to die, like we all do at some point, I'd rather have your face be my last memory than anything else in the world."

She began to cry again and Nick tightened his hold on her, trying to reassure her, to heal the open wounds engraved on her heart. "I love you, Sara."

She stilled and looked up, the blatant hope in her eyes nearly breaking his heart.

"Sara, I love you, and it kills me that I needed nearly losing you to some psycho to make me tell you how I feel."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her cold skin against his in an intimate embrace. Placing her mouth near his ear she whispered, "I love you too, Nick."

He kissed her forehead before standing up from the shower stall. "Let's get you home Sara, you've had a rough day."

Her smile was a small one but sincere as she replied, "Amantes sunt amentes."

"What?"

"It means 'lovers are lunatics'."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Not anymore, Nick. Believe me, this is the sanest I've felt all day."

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